The reason
by ZivaFan
Summary: After preventing a distraught woman from killing a man she claims is about to hurt someone else, Ziva is determined to reveal the reason behind the woman's actions.
1. Chapter 1

**The reason**

_Disclaimer: NCIS as well as the NCIS characters do not belong to me. This is just for fun._

_A/N: Rated PG-13 for violence and language. _

_I would like to thank my wonderful beta Rinne __for correcting my mistakes and providing valuable comments that greatly improve the story_

**Chapter one**

'It really has no business being this cold,' thought Ziva to herself. 'It's almost Passover. Haven't they heard of spring?"

It was 6:58 in the morning and she was about to be late. Her car had failed to start again, which wasn't a big surprise, considering past experiences. What came as a bigger surprise was that once she managed to jump-start the car and drive it for a couple of miles the engine made a series of unnatural sounds, started smoking and then died.

'At least that proves the damn thing has an engine,' she thought to herself. Ziva had inherited her car from a friend that worked in the Israeli embassy in Washington. She had left for Israel a couple of weeks after Ziva arrived. She gave Ziva the car for free, and, as she was handing her the keys, warned her that you get what you pay for. She wasn't kidding.

Ziva pushed the car off the road and into a vacant parking space. She then called Tony who agreed to pick her up on his way to work. If he didn't arrive soon Gibbs was going to smack them both silly. As she was waiting, Ziva watched the people around her. People-watching wasn't just a hobby, it was something she was well trained at. She took pride in her ability to read between the lines and into the lives of the people she was watching.

She could tell that the man buying a paper from the vendor across the street was newly retired and unsure as to what he should do with his spare time. The obese young woman, who was waiting by the same curb as Ziva, was clearly in love. She looked over these people and others quickly, until her gaze fell on a young, apparently nervous, woman that was standing across the street from her. The woman appeared to be waiting for someone to come out of a nearby building. She fidgeted constantly and was holding tightly onto her purse. She appeared to be high on something. Ziva looked at her for a while and then moved her gaze onto a homeless woman that was crossing the street, pushing a shopping trolley and talking loudly to herself. A few minutes had passed and Tony had still not arrived. Ziva tried to decide whether he had met some hot girl on his way to his car or whether he was caught in traffic. A car pulled over and a young, extremely skinny man came out. He approached the obese young woman and they kissed passionately. He then opened the car door for her, got into the car himself and drove away. Ziva congratulated herself for diagnosing the woman's emotional state correctly.

Gradually, the entire population of the street changed. People kept coming and going. Only Ziva and the nervous woman remained. After another 10 minutes had passed, Ziva decided to try and call Tony's cell phone. As she was looking for her phone, she heard loud shouts coming from across the street, followed by a single gun shot.

"You son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you!" she heard a female voice shouting, followed by a male voice that was begging for the woman to get away from him. A bus was blocking Ziva's view. She drew her gun and ran across the road. When she arrived, she saw that the nervous woman was standing over a man who was lying on the ground. He seemed to have been shot in the leg. The woman didn't look quite as nervous anymore. In fact she seemed furious. She was holding a gun and pointing it at the man.

"Federal agent, drop the gun!" Ziva commanded in a strong and even voice.

The woman turned towards Ziva. She looked surprised to see her there. "You don't understand," she said. "He deserves it."

"Why don't you drop the gun and we can talk about it," suggested Ziva, edging herself closer to the woman.

"I can't do that," said the woman, who now appeared to be quite calm. "I'm sorry." She turned towards the man and pointed her gun at him.

"No! Please! Shoot her! She's going to kill me!" cried the injured man.

Ziva was close enough. She kicked the gun out of the woman's hand and threw her down to the ground. Within seconds, the woman found herself handcuffed and unable to move.

"I see you kept yourself occupied," Tony said, coming up from behind her as she was lifting the woman, who was sobbing quietly, up from the ground. "I called an ambulance, and it sounds like the cops are on the way."

As her adrenaline rush subsided Ziva could indeed hear the sounds of approaching sirens.

They were definitely going to be late for work.

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"Yes, McGee, tell Gibbs we might be a while longer. The PD is questioning Ziva," Tony said, speaking on his cell phone. "Yeah, can you believe she didn't kill anyone? I'll go and make sure she plays nicely with the local cops."

Tony closed his phone and approached Ziva, who was standing next to a police car talking to a uniformed police officer. She seemed, to Tony, to be close to boiling point. The woman Ziva apprehended was sitting inside the police car, rocking back and forth, and crying softly to herself. The injured man had been taken to the closest emergency room.

"Probably was just looking for her next fix," the cop was saying as Tony approached.

"I'm telling you it didn't appear random," said an increasingly irritated Ziva.

"She's clearly a junkie, Ma'am," said the cop, looking extremely bored.

Tony flinched. He knew from past experience that calling Ziva 'Ma'am' was not a very good idea. Seeing how she already seemed annoyed at not getting her message through to the cop, Tony decided to put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Look, Officer…" Ziva shook Tony's hand off of her shoulder and looked down at the officer's name badge, "Polanski, I'm telling you the woman was screaming that the man was a son of a bitch and that she was going to kill him. This was not some random mugging. He was her specific target!"

"I think we have everything we need here, Ma'am. We know how to handle junkies," said Officer Polanski.

Tony could tell that Ziva was about ready to punch the cop in the face and decided to intervene. He smiled at the officer and started dragging Ziva away.

"Wait a second," Ziva said, and headed back towards the police car. She opened the back door of the car and leaned towards the woman.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked the woman.

The woman looked up at Ziva. "He's going to do it again. He's going to hurt her. You should have let me finish it," she said and started rocking back and forth again.

"Ma'am, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Officer Polanski approached the car. "Get the hell away from her!"

Ziva was about to confront him but Tony intervened again. "Sorry Officer, we'll be leaving now." He tugged on Ziva's sleeve and guided her to his car.

As soon as they were in the car, Ziva turned towards Tony. "Why the hell did you drag me out of there? Can't you see the guy was a complete moron?"

"Look, confronting him and making the local cops angry wouldn't have done any good. This is not our case. There were no marines or sailors involved. You should really learn to let things go," Tony said.

"That woman did not attack that man in order to get a fix, Tony!" said Ziva. "I came this close to killing her! I'd like to bloody know why!"

"You didn't kill her Ziva," Tony reasoned. "In fact, you saved a life. If you want, you can call later and find out who the detective assigned to the case is. Talk to him. He might be more intelligent than that Polanski idiot."

Ziva could see that Tony was right. There was really no point in getting into a fight with the patrol officer, but, like it or not, she couldn't get rid of the feeling that she had let someone down. She couldn't forget how calm the woman seemed just before she took her down, or how she had said that she was sorry. Ziva also wondered who the shooter thought the man was going to hurt. Maybe Gibbs was rubbing of on her, but her gut told her that the shooter was genuinely trying to stop someone from getting hurt.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**The reason **

_Disclaimer: NCIS as well as the NCIS characters do not belong to me. This is just for fun. _

_A/N: Rated PG-13 for violence and language. _

_I would like to thank my wonderful beta Rinne __for correcting my mistakes and providing valuable comments that greatly improve the story. All mistakes made are my own._

**Chapter two**

The elevator bell rang and its doors opened. Tony stepped out of the elevator carrying several food items he had picked up on his lunch run and smacked straight into McGee. With a succession of acrobatic feats, Tony managed to hold on to all the items, save for a single wrapped sandwich that flew out of his hand and hit McGee squarely on the head.

"Way to go Probie," said Tony. "Couldn't wait to get your sandwich, could you?"

McGee bent to the ground and picked up the sandwich. "I was just trying to get away from Ziva, she's in a bad mood."

Tony looked over to Ziva's desk. Ziva was repeatedly smacking the phone receiver onto its cradle, using much more force than was necessary and cursing in what Tony assumed was Hebrew.

"Hmm," he started with a smile, "it's a good thing we don't use courier pigeons. There'd be feathers everywhere."

"I don't get why she's so invested in this. I mean that woman was trying to kill someone," said a perplexed McGee.

Tony put the remaining food items on a nearby desk and rested his hand on McGee's shoulder. "I don't know if you've noticed it, Probie, but our Ziva has a certain affinity for the underdog."

"How do you mean?" asked McGee.

Tony couldn't believe that McGee hadn't noticed how protective Ziva could get of him and the autopsy gremlin. "Haven't you noticed how she always comes to y…" suddenly he realized that McGee would probably take offence at being called an underdog, "…Palmer's defense?"

"Now that you mention it," said McGee, "you could be right."

Tony headed towards Ziva's desk and handed her the sandwich he had bought her, together with her cherry-mango slurpee. "I take it it's not going well with the PD?" he asked.

Ziva rubbed her left temple and reached out for the slurpee. "Is there some international law that requires that cops everywhere be stupid?" she asked Tony.

"Hey!" Tony objected.

"Oh sorry, I forgot," said Ziva. "But, really, I mean, they won't even let me talk to the person in charge and no one is listening when I tell them this was no random shooting. It looks like they've already decided that…"

Ziva was cut off by Gibbs who was taking the stairs down from MTAC. "Everyone gear up!"

"What have we got boss?" Tony asked, heading for his desk.

"A marine Lieutenant just shot his ex-wife and his kid in front of several neighbors. He then shot one of the neighbors and stole his car. He's on the run and is probably trying to get out of DC," replied Gibbs.

"Have road blocks been set?" asked Ziva, grabbing her backpack and rushing after Gibbs, Tony and McGee. The four agents entered the elevator.

"Yes," Gibbs replied. "At all city exists. Look, the major priority on this is to catch the suspect before he kills anyone else. The director sent another team to inspect the crime scene. We're going to oversee the roadblocks and make sure he doesn't breech the parameter. I want us to split up. McGee will be with me and Ziva, you're with Tony."

As Tony and Ziva headed for their car, Ziva grabbed the keys out of Tony's hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Tony.

"We may have to conduct a high speed pursuit," replied Ziva with a smile. "That's my thing."

Tony couldn't argue with that. Every time Ziva drove it felt like a high speed pursuit, whether they were actually chasing someone or not.

"If he has half a brain, he's going to try and switch cars," said Tony as he entered the passenger side of the car. He reached over and turned on the short wave radio.

"Yeah," Ziva answered, reversing the car out of its parking space and speeding out of the NCIS parking lot, "if he's thinking straight."

They drove in silence for a while, Tony trying to concentrate on keeping down his recently eaten lunch. Ziva seemed to be really enjoying herself, much to the horror of the drivers that shared the road with her.

After a short while the radio came to life. "Suspect car, license plate BJK 1437, sited at the Friendship Flower Shop at 3236 Wisconsin Ave."

"That's our guy," said Tony after checking his note book. He picked up the radio. "This is special agent Anthony Dinozzo, NCIS. The suspect is armed and dangerous and is not to be approached! Do not let him leave but do not confront him! We're four blocks away."

Ziva turned the car around, narrowly avoiding the traffic that was headed in the other direction. "What the hell is he doing in a flower shop? Who kills three people, escapes, and then stops to buy flowers?" she asked.

Tony didn't have an answer to that.

Within minutes, they had arrived at the scene. They found four police cars surrounding the small flower shop. As they exited their car, a police sergeant approached them. "The suspect is in there. As far as we can tell, he has one hostage. We've called the negotiator."

Tony made a judgment call and decided that there was no time to wait. He would have to try and talk to the suspect. "Is there a back entrance?" he asked the police sergeant.

After learning that there indeed was a back entrance he turned to Ziva. "You take the back entrance, sneak up on him. I'll go in from the front."

Ziva nodded and headed towards the back of the shop. Tony headed towards the front entrance. He entered the shop and saw that the suspect was pointing his gun at his hostage. The hostage was clearly terrified and was begging. "Please, I don't know what you're saying. I've never even met your wife."

The suspect was in a rage. He grabbed onto his hostage and pulled him closely to him, pressing his gun against his head. "Liar! You were fucking her!" he shouted.

As he noticed Tony, the suspect held the hostage closer to him, using him as a shield. "Stay away!" he barked at Tony.

Tony could see Ziva sneaking up behind the marine. Due to the way he was holding the hostage, she didn't have a clear shot.

"So this is what this is about? You think your wife was having an affair with this guy?" he asked, pretending he was both calm and amused.

"What's so funny?" asked the crazed marine.

"You want to know what's funny? What if I tell you that our little friend here is the only one that wasn't doing your wife?" smirked Tony.

"What are you saying?" asked the increasingly agitated marine.

"I'm saying she was as easy as they get, hell, even I did her," said Tony.

The unhinged marine gave a crazed cry. He tossed his hostage to the side and raised his gun to shoot Tony.

Two shots were heard and the marine fell down. By enraging the suspect, Tony gave Ziva the clear shot she needed and, as Tony expected, she didn't hesitate in taking it.

Tony leaned over the marine's body and checked for a pulse. The marine was dead.

Ziva went over to the crying flouriest and helped him up. "It's going to be okay," she told him, looking over at Tony. "It's all over."

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Tony took the steps down from MTAC. He had just been chastised for taking what the director considered to be an unnecessary risk. He didn't think Gibbs agreed with her and was pretty sure he had done the right thing. When he reached his desk, he noticed that Ziva was sitting at her own desk, staring at her phone.

"I didn't think you were the type to sit by the phone and wait for a man to call you," Tony said.

Ziva looked up to him and made a face. "The dispatcher I spoke to promised me she would have the detective in charge of investigating this morning's shooting call me," she said. "That was half an hour ago. These people are really jerking me off."

"Around," corrected Tony.

"Did the director give you her speech?" asked Ziva.

"Oh yeah, you?" Tony replied.

"Yes, she seems to think we were reckless." Ziva shrugged. "I think we did the right thing. How do you say, the proof is in the pudding."

Ziva's phone rang and she eagerly picked it up. "Yes, McGee," she said clearly disappointed. "I think the chardonnay will go great with the fish recipe I gave you. But the main thing is don't overcook the fish. Yeah, you can call me anytime."

Tony was intrigued, but before he could ask Ziva who McGee was cooking for she turned to him. "I'm getting the feeling that the detective isn't going to call Tony," she said.

Considering it was already eight in the evening, Tony had to agree.

"I was thinking," Ziva continued, "seeing how tomorrow is Saturday and they haven't arraigned her yet, I thought I'd go visit her in central booking. I want to ask her who she was afraid the man she shot was going to hurt."

"You want me to come with?" Tony asked.

"Would you?" asked Ziva.

"If you need me for my superior investigative skills, who am I to say no?" Tony agreed graciously.

Ziva wanted to make a witty comeback but decided against it. She really did want Tony to come with her. She needed someone to corroborate her gut feeling about the woman, and she did trust Tony's intuition.

"There is, however, one condition," continued Tony.

"You're not going to make me say that I need you for your superior investigative skills?" asked Ziva.

"No, although that would be nice," smiled Tony. "I want you to tell me what's going on with McGee."

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**The reason**

_Disclaimer: NCIS as well as the NCIS characters do not belong to me. This is just for fun._

_A/N: Rated PG-13 for violence and language. _

_The character of Paul that is mentioned in this chapter was introduced in my story "Color Blind" _

_I would like to thank my wonderful beta Rinne__for correcting my mistakes and providing valuable comments that greatly improve the story__All mistakes made are my own._

**Chapter** **three**

She could remember a time, not so long ago, when she immensely enjoyed staying in bed late on Saturday mornings. That was before her sleep was taken over by endless nightmares, before she killed Ari, before she lost Tali, before she experienced the horrors her position offered and performed some of the terrible tasks it demanded. These days, Saturday mornings were spent performing chores and trying not to think too much.

Considering the state of Ziva's car, Tony had agreed to pick her up from her apartment at 10:00 am By 9:30, Ziva had jogged, cleaned her house, phoned Paul and her family, and made enough food to feed a small army. She had no doubt that Tony was just getting up, probably trying to disengage himself from his latest conquest. Ziva would never admit it, but she was a bit jealous. Not because she was interested in Tony romantically; she wasn't. Rather, it was the fact that he could sleep for more than three hours straight and was getting laid regularly. She, in contrast, had no luck in that department since Paul had left for Israel nearly three months ago. Truth be told, she didn't even have the energy to try and get involved with anyone, and it didn't help that the one guy she did flirt with turned out to be a serial killer. Abby attempting to comfort her by telling her that this happened to Tony a lot did help a little though.

Ziva often wondered why it was that she wasn't interested in Tony. She did find him attractive. He was extremely handsome, smart, and most importantly, he made her laugh, and yet she didn't even consider sleeping with him. If she had met him a year ago she would probably be all over him. After all, she was pretty sure that all she would have to do, if she wanted to, was suggest it. Ziva knew it wasn't rule number 12. Rules very rarely played a big part in her decision making process. It wasn't her involvement with Paul either. Her relationship with him had never been exclusive. When they were together, they were together, but when they were separated geographically they did see other people. She suspected it had more to do with the reason she didn't ask Paul to stay. She was wallowing in guilt and it left very little room for anything else.

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Detective Johnson was in no mood to be hassled by a couple of federal agents from an agency he had never heard of before, about a case that, as far as he was concerned, was open and shut. His roster was more than full. His top priority at the moment was catching a man the media had started referring to as the granny-rapist. Three cases of rape, all against elderly women had occurred within a three-block radius, in the past week and a half. The rapist had left no forensic evidence and, although the official statements of the police indicated that progress was being made, they really had no leads.

"Look, Agent David," he said, "this case couldn't be clearer. Ms-" he looked down at his file, "Michelle Benton shot Mr. Ralph Anderson in broad daylight in front of about a dozen witnesses; one of which," he pointed at Ziva, "was a federal agent. Frankly, this case doesn't need a detective."

"But, don't you care why she did it?" asked Ziva.

"To be honest, no," he replied. "That's a matter for the lawyers."

Ziva realized that she wasn't about to convince the detective that the case merited his attention. "Do you mind if we talk to her?"

Tony could see the detective was hesitant. He decided to use the ex-cop card and pulled the detective aside.

After about five minutes, the detective and Tony returned.

"Okay, you can see her," he said to Ziva, "but this is just a courtesy. The case is mine. If you learn anything important, I want to know about it."

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The officer in charge of the holding cells was quite shocked at the amount of weaponry Ziva had to leave with him. As a result he seemed to be rather scared of her and tried to stay as far away as possible when handing her the visitor's card.

"How did you get him to agree to letting us see her?" Ziva asked Tony as they were ushered through the first gate.

"I told him that I used to be a cop myself and asked for a favor," replied Tony.

"And that took nearly five minutes?" inquired Ziva.

The gate locked behind them with a metallic clang.

"Well I had to embellish it a little," Tony explained, "tell him that you tend to get strange ideas into your head and that it's your time of month and that if he didn't let us talk to the suspect I wouldn't hear the end of it."

"You know what Tony," said Ziva, "next time I ask just don't tell m…"

Ziva stopped short. As the door of the cell housing Michelle Benton opened, it became very clear that they were not going to talk to her after all. Ms. Benton was lying on the floor covered in blood. She was very clearly dead. A message was written on the wall close to where she fell. It was written in her own blood, and said: "Sorry I couldn't stop him."

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Ziva stormed out of the police station, followed by Tony.

"Why the hell did you drag me out of there?" she almost yelled at him.

"I was worried you were going to hurt someone," Tony replied. "You really need to calm down."

"Of all the idiotic things; how could they let her sneak a sharp object into her cell?" Ziva ranted.

Tony agreed that the man who searched Ms. Benton was an idiot but he wanted to calm Ziva down. "It was a pen. I guess they didn't think…"

"They didn't think what? If I can kill someone with a pen, then it can be used to cut your own wrists," said Ziva, slamming her hand on the roof of Tony's car.

"You killed someone with a pen?" asked Tony.

"No comment," replied Ziva.

"Okay," said Tony, a bit worried at this new piece of information. "What do you say we call it a day? There's a nice restaurant…"

"You can call it a day if you want," Ziva cut him off. "I'm going to check out her apartment."

"How do you even know where she lives?" asked a baffled Tony.

Ziva gave Tony an 'I thought you knew me better than that' look. "You left me alone for almost five minutes next to Detective Johnson's desk. I know the case file by heart."

"Of course you do," said Tony.

"So are you going to come with me, or do I need to catch a cab?" asked Ziva.

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Gaining access to Ms. Benson's flat proved to be no problem. It took Ziva about three seconds to pick the lock.

"You need to teach me how to do that," said Tony.

Ziva ignored him and headed deeper into the apartment. The place was Spartan. It was a studio apartment that was almost bare of furniture. It contained a double bed, a desk and a chair. Beside the bed, there was a single night stand. A small kitchenette was located at one of the corners of the room. The sink was filled with dirty dishes. Ziva opened the small refrigerator and found that it was almost completely empty.

Tony and Ziva quickly searched the place. Tony looked through the drawer of the night stand and found some drug paraphernalia. He lifted it up and showed it to Ziva.

"At least they were right about her being a junkie."

"Well that was clear from the way she appeared when I stopped her from killing Anderson," said Ziva impatiently. "She was clearly high."

"Then what are we doing here, again?" asked Tony.

"Just because she was an addict doesn't mean she didn't have a good reason to shoot him," said Ziva.

"Junkies get strange ideas into their heads, Ziva," offered Tony. "When I was a cop in Baltimore I once…"

"I'm sure that's a fascinating story," Ziva cut him off. "But I really don't think this was drug related in any way."

Tony decided to leave the topic for now.

The two agents continued to search the apartment. Tony entered the bathroom and Ziva looked under the bed. "I think I found something," she said.

Ziva dragged a cardboard box from under the bed. In it was a notebook, a camera and several pictures. Ziva spread the pictures on the bed. Most of the pictures were of Ralph Anderson, the man Ziva had stopped Michelle Benson from killing. Some of the pictures caught him together with a very pregnant woman. The pictures that didn't have Anderson in them were of the pregnant woman by herself.

"Looks like your shooter was stalking her prey," said Tony.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**The reason **

_Disclaimer: NCIS as well as the NCIS characters do not belong to me. This is just for fun._

_A/N: Rated PG-13 for violence and language. _

_I would like to thank my wonderful beta Rinne__ for correcting my mistakes and providing valuable comments that greatly improve the story__All mistakes made are my own._

**Chapter****four**

Ziva couldn't blame Tony for not understanding why she was so determined to learn the reason why Michelle Benton tried to kill Ralph Anderson. To be honest, she wasn't quite clear on that herself. All she knew was that she believed Michelle when she told her that Ralph Anderson was going to hurt someone. She had no real evidence to back this up. Ziva was embarrassed to admit, even to herself, that all she had to go on was her gut feeling. Gibbs must really be rubbing off on her.

"I don't think they're home," said Tony.

They were standing in front of the apartment Ralph Anderson shared with his wife, meters from where Ziva had knocked Michelle Benton down and restrained her only the day before. From studying detective Johnson's case-file, Ziva had learned that Mr. Anderson was married, that he lived in apartment 7B of the building they were standing in front of, and that he was released from the hospital that morning.

"Where would he be, Tony?" asked Ziva, pressing the buzzer one more time. "He was just shot. Do you think he's out dancing?"

"Well, he's not answering," said an exasperated Tony. "What do you want to do, break in?"

Tony was being sarcastic, but he realized his mistake the moment he uttered those words. It didn't take Ziva more than a minute to remove her lock-picks from her coat pocket and open the main door to the apartment complex. "You coming?" she asked

Tony could see no real choice but to follow her.

Ziva was too impatient to wait for the elevator. Instead she took the stairs two at a time. By the time they reached the 7th floor, Tony regretted making Ziva stop on the way to buy him that large cheeseburger. His side was hurting and he was out of breath. Ziva didn't wait for either of them to catch their breath and pressed the buzzer to apartment 7B.

At first there was no response, but after a couple of minutes, in which Ziva didn't give the buzzer a rest, they could hear some thumping coming from inside the apartment.

"Who's there?" came a male voice from inside the apartment.

"Mr. Anderson, we're federal agents from NCIS," said Ziva through the door. "We'd like to talk to you."

After a few seconds the door opened to reveal Ralph Anderson. He looked rather pathetic to Tony. His leg was bandaged and he was using a crutch to prop himself up. He also hadn't shaved and seemed generally disheveled. As he looked at Ziva, it was clear that he recognized her.

"You're the one who stopped her from killing me," he said.

"Can we come in?" asked Ziva.

Mr. Anderson stepped aside and let them in.

"How are you feeling, Sir?" asked Ziva.

"Well, I've been shot and my leg hurts like hell," replied Mr. Anderson. "It could have been worse though, if you hadn't stepped in. That bitch wanted to kill me."

"About that," started Tony, "you didn't happen to know her?"

The man seemed, to Tony, to grow rather nervous at this simple question. He looked from Tony back to Ziva and finally gave an answer that Tony's gut told him was a lie. "I never saw her before in my life."

"Are you sure of that?" asked Ziva, stepping a little closer to the man. "Cause she seemed very interested in you and your wife."

Ziva had assumed that the pregnant woman that appeared in the pictures in Michelle's house was Mrs. Anderson. A picture hanging in the living room of the apartment confirmed her assumption.

Mr. Anderson's agitation was growing. He backed up in order to distance himself from Ziva and moved towards his coach. When he reached it, he sat down with a sigh. "It's like I said, I've never seen her before."

Tony decided to try another strategy. "Where's your wife, Sir?" he asked. "Can we speak to her?"

"She went to the doctor, with our baby," replied Mr. Anderson.

"So your wife gave birth?" asked Ziva.

"Yeah, two weeks ago," said Mr. Anderson. "Look, I really need to stay off this leg, and I'm really tired. I appreciate what you've done for me Ma'am, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

"Fine," said Tony. "But could I please use the toilet first?"

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Tony and Ziva were standing outside the Anderson apartment building, waiting for Mrs. Anderson to come back from her doctor's appointment.

"Did you really need to go?" asked Ziva.

"Yes," said Tony, "but that's not why I asked."

He removed a piece of toilet paper from his pocket and unwrapped it. Inside was a man's comb.

"You want to run his DNA?" asked Ziva. "What are you planning to compare it to?"

"I don't know," replied Tony. "I just thought it might come in handy."

Ziva smiled. "I take it you don't think I'm completely crazy anymore?" she asked.

"I never thought you were crazy. I just thought that you might be barking up the wrong tree," said Tony, honestly.

"And now?" asked Ziva.

Tony scratched his head. "I don't know," he said, "but that guy was lying. He knew her, and he's afraid we'll find out about it."

"I think that's her," said Ziva.

A woman resembling the pictures of Mrs. Anderson they had seen was approaching them. She wasn't pregnant anymore. Instead she was pushing a stroller.

Ziva and Tony approached her and identified themselves.

"Ma'am," said Ziva, "my name is Ziva David and I work for NCIS."

"NCIS?" asked Mrs. Anderson.

Ziva didn't want to start explaining what NCIS was, in case the woman would point out that this really had nothing to do with the Navy. "I was here yesterday morning when your husband was attacked," she said instead.

"You're the one who saved Ralph?" asked Mrs. Anderson. She flung herself at Ziva and hugged her. "Oh, thank you, thank you."

Ziva was a bit embarrassed. "Look, we wanted to ask you some questions." She pointed towards the Starbucks down the block. "Can we buy you a cup of coffee?"

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"I don't know what I would have done if she killed my Ralph," said Mrs. Anderson, nursing her coffee cup. "Our Melissa is only two weeks old. I don't know how I could ever repay you Miss David."

Ziva, Tony and Mrs. Anderson were sitting around a small table. Melissa was asleep in her stroller.

"Mrs. Anderson," said Tony, "we're trying to understand why your husband was attacked. We wanted to ask you, did you know the woman that assaulted him?"

"I don't exactly know her," replied Mrs. Anderson and continued only after Ziva gave her a nod of approval. "She had an affair with my husband."

"How do you know?" asked Ziva, a little surprised at the straight forward way in which Mrs. Anderson provided this information.

"He told me," said Mrs. Anderson. "He had to, cause he wanted to warn me about her. She was blackmailing him, because he ended it with her. He warned me she would try and tell me lies about him."

"And did she?" asked Tony.

"She approached me in the supermarket when I was there with Melissa, three days ago. She tried to tell me that Ralph was going to hurt Melissa the same way he'd hurt her. I told her that I knew about the affair and that she was wasting her breath."

"And how did she react?" asked Ziva.

"She said that I don't understand and just repeated that if I didn't leave him, he was going to hurt Melissa, but I didn't believe her. She was clearly a very disturbed young woman. So she just started crying and left."

"Weren't you upset that your husband had an affair?" asked Ziva.

Mrs. Anderson turned towards the stroller and fixed the blankets around her daughter.

"I know what men are like," she said, turning back towards Ziva. She pointed towards Tony. "He's probably no different. Once you get pregnant and fat they go and find other women to satisfy them. Of course I was upset, but Ralph is Melissa's father. So that's that."

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"That was depressing," said Ziva, seating herself in the passenger seat of Tony's car.

"It was also a load of malarkey," said Tony.

"Malarkey?" asked Ziva, who had never heard that word before.

"Nonsense, bullshit, baloney," clarified Tony.

"I agree with you on that," said Ziva. "I don't think she was lying though."

"No, but her husband sure lied to her," contemplated Tony. "If it was just an affair gone wrong he wouldn't have lied to us about it. Not when he already told his wife."

Ziva and Tony continued to think out loud.

"So if it wasn't an affair," said Ziva, "he only told his wife that it was, so that she wouldn't take Michelle seriously when she told her about the threat to their daughter."

"Which means," continued Tony, "that there was probably some validity to her claim and that he indeed did hurt Michelle in some way in the past."

"All the pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Anderson that Michelle had were from the time Mrs. Anderson was already pregnant," said Ziva. "It looks like the pregnancy set her off."

Tony and Ziva were both thinking the same thing. If Ralph Anderson abused Michelle when she was a child and she somehow found out that he was about to have a baby, she would have good reason to worry about that child.

"Do you think he's Michelle's father?" asked Ziva.

"Either that or he had access to her for some other reason, when she was a child," replied Tony.

"But if he abused her wouldn't there be a record of it?" asked Ziva.

"Only if she told someone about it, and even then it would probably be sealed," replied Tony. "We need to find out what connection Mr. Anderson had to Michelle when she was a child."

**TBC**


End file.
